


Consumed

by jaibhagwan



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-26
Updated: 2014-12-01
Packaged: 2018-02-27 04:29:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2679164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaibhagwan/pseuds/jaibhagwan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A short story based on promos for S05E06. On the hunt for Beth, Daryl and Carol take some time to reflect on their friendship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

He tells her how he lost Beth, how she was taken from him. She can hear the guilt in his voice. She knows it doesn't belong there and she won't let him be consumed by it.

"It wasn't your fault," she says.

He looks at her and nods, accepting her point.

"What about you?" he asks, "You gonna tell me what you're carryin' that you don't need to? Ain't that how it works?"

He pulls his eyes from the road for a moment to look at her again.

There is an openness in his eyes. They are searching and vulnerable, but focused like a true hunter's gaze. She feels him zoning in on the raw ache in her soul. That damaged space that used to hold her heart. And it strikes her, how patient he has been with her. How tender. How affectionate. The insecure bravado had been shed somewhere along the way. He was trying so hard to be there for her, to show her how much he cared. It made her realize how much of a wall she had erected around herself, to keep herself going.

"I thought it could be different with them," she declares finally breaking her silence. "I thought I could teach them to be strong. But in the end, I couldn't save them either, Daryl."

She confesses the tragedy in the pecan grove, crying as she tells him about Lizzie and Mika. By the end of her story, he's cursing himself that he can't pull over and hold her the way he held her when they found Sophia. He reaches out his hand instead and finds hers in the darkness. He weaves his fingers between hers and squeezes them gently to reassure her, coaxing her back into the light.

"You did what you had to do."

His voice is soft and full of understanding and the sound of it massages the hard mass around her heart, setting it free, and restoring her to life. She takes a breath and feels almost like a person again.

"Carol?"

"Hmm?"

"I'm sorry you felt like you were alone. At the prison."

He looks at her and gives her hand a squeeze again.

"You ain't, you know, alone. Whatever happens, we're in this together."

"Of course we are," she confirms, feeling the warmth from his hand extending to the smile on her lips.

"So, you ain't gonna try to leave again?"

There is a sadness in his voice and she takes responsibility for putting it there.

"No, Daryl, I'm not gonna leave you."

She squeezes his hand back, determined to stay. He's giving her the chance to save a girl. Of course, she's going to help him find Beth.

"We'll find her," she says the words again, but this time she means them.

He thinks maybe things will be alright again. He got her back and they were hot on the trail to find Beth's kidnappers.

In a vow of his loyalty, he brings her hand to his lips and kisses it.

"We will," he promises her.

And he's certain that it will be true this time.


	2. Chapter 2

They've been running all night chasing after that black car with the white cross. In the moonlight, he can see that she is exhausted but stubbornly refusing to slow down. He admires her for it, appreciating how far she's come. But it makes him think about what they're doing out here on their own, just the two of them, and he realizes they need to stop and rest for a least a few hours.

Atlanta is crawling with the undead. Weaving through the city streets, it's not easy for them to stay far enough behind the other car to remain undetected. They lose track of the car between several large buildings, one of which looks like it used to be a hospital. Suddenly, the cross in the rear window makes sense to them both.

They need to ditch the car to get closer, but the approaching dead don't make it easy and they have to retreat to safety and find another way around.

They crawl up the fire escape of an apartment building to a second story unit. Luckily, it's empty and they can hole up in there for a few hours. Once inside, they both know the routine. They secure all the exits and then scavenge for supplies. There are two bedrooms, but one of them is a kid's room, a teenage girl, they determine from the dusty decor left in it. Neither of them can stomach the idea of sleeping in there. It reminds them both of what's at stake here. They exchange a look and then both retreat into the other room.

They barricade themselves inside the master bedroom, too. Carol starts to dig through the dressers and closet for clean clothes, but decides she's too tired to truly care and collapses onto the bed instead. Daryl lays down beside her equally spent, but he can't stop his mind from racing. Both are consumed by their thoughts, so neither of them stops to think about the fact that they are sharing a bed. But it's not the first time they've huddled close out of necessity, so it barely registers.

With their minds so restless, sleep won't come easy to either of them. He lay there thinking about their mission. They both needed it to succeed, but he thought she might need it more after what she'd told him in the car. And then he wanted it more because of it. It seemed to him, when it came down to it, that it had always been this way for them, chasing after a girl. Somehow, the two of them were destined for this path together because it kept happening. It was what brought them together. And after all this time, it was what kept them together.

The thought makes him feel more deeply connected to Carol than he had ever considered. He turns his head to look at her. Not surprisingly, her eyes are wide open. She's a million miles away from him although her body lay mere inches from his. Suddenly, those few inches seem as deep and wide as a ravine to him. He can't tolerate her distance any longer.

"Can't sleep either, huh?" he asks.

Pulled from her thoughts, she glances at him and shakes her head.

There are too many thoughts still left unsaid between them, but he just needs her closer.

"C'mere," he says reaching out to her.

She hesitates. He's never asked her to move closer to him before.

"Ain't gonna bite, I promise," he teases her.

She smiles nervously but scoots her body a little closer to his and turns on her side to face him. Her distance continues to goad him.

"C'mon," he says more seriously pulling her closer still, until her head is resting lightly on his shoulder. Her arm falls naturally across his chest.

Initially, he's tense. He's never done this before, but for some reason, it just feels right to wrap his arms around her. He takes a deep breath, inhaling her scent, and finds it relaxes him.

She's shocked by his actions, and she's a little tense at first, too. But she can't remember the last time she was really held by anyone like this. The heat from Daryl's body feels welcoming and begins to unravel the hard knot she still feels in her chest.

The space between them slowly evaporates as they melt into each other's embrace. Holding each other seems to give them both strength.

She looks into his eyes and feels seen by him. They are just two survivors clinging to each other, hoping to find their redemption.

"Whatever happens," he begins.

"We're in this together," she completes his thought.

And at that moment, they each feel perfectly whole and complete.

Daryl isn't really certain what will happen next. But he is in no hurry for the sun to rise. He only knows that he would give his life for this brave woman before him. He would do anything to make her happy. This is the woman he loves. The only person he has ever trusted completely. She is lying in his arms, and he feels so incredibly lucky to have her there.

"Carol," he utters her name like a prayer.

"Yes?"

"Never been able to tell you this before, but you deserve to know. I want you to know. You're the strongest person I ever met. You care about everyone so much. And I know what you did, everything you've done, is all because you were tryin' to protect us. And you need to know, ain't nobody in my life ever fought so hard to keep me safe. And it don't matter what you do, I'll always love you for it."

Tears are stinging in her eyes and she realizes as she gasps for air that she had stopped breathing altogether. What it took for him to tell her means everything to her.

"I know you will, Daryl," she says as she reaches both hands to his face and brushes the hair away from his soulful eyes. "And I love you, too, so very, very much."

Without thinking, she is kissing him on each cheek where his own tears have begun to fall. She pulls her head back to look at him, her chin quivering with overwhelming emotion. The sight of it makes him reach for her face. He wipes away her tears with calloused thumbs, memorizing every freckle and gentle wrinkle on her porcelain skin. It's important to him that he remember exactly how beautiful she looks in this moment. Clumsily, his hands begin to stray towards the unruly tufts of hair by her ears. He lets his fingers glide through her soft curls. It is the ultimate riddle to him. He doesn't quite understand how she can feel so soft yet be so strong.

His touch is so delicate, barely gracing the tips of her ears, sending a shiver down her spine. He stiffens at her reaction, unsure of what it means, so he pulls his hands away like he'd been burned.

She can't stand the loss of his touch. Urgently, she presses forward to meet his lips with her own. The kiss is awkward and hard, but the spark from it kindles a fire deep inside him.

She pulls back, ashamed of her audacity, covering her lips with her fingers. He looks at her quizzically, like he doesn't quite understand why she stopped. Slowly, removing her fingers from her lips, he closes the gap, bringing his head forward to meet them again. It's softer this time, curious. The kiss lingers as he savors this new experience of her. He appreciates the warm softness of her lips. He panics as he feels the rush of heat building in his belly and running the full length of his body. This time, he's the one that pulls back. But he can't stand to be too far from her so he rests his forehead against hers, panting.

They both pause to catch their breath while their hearts begin to beat out a syncopated rhythm. He pulls his head back just enough to gaze into her eyes. The need to see her and be seen by her is overwhelming. He searches her eyes with an unspoken question, but finds the answer written on her graceful mouth.

Leisurely, he drags his lips across hers, exploring their edges. His fingertips return to slide down the back of her head, weaving between her silky tresses. He feels the tip of her tongue feather across his lips and it sends a chill down his neck. Sucking in a breath, he gradually begins to open his mouth. There is a sudden current that rushes through them when the tips of their tongues find each other. He can't hold back the groan that rises in his throat as his body twitches alive.

She feels him wind his fingers more tightly around the curls on the side of her face as he draws her closer to his greedy lips. Their tongues curl around each other and the wet heat of it surges through both of them. Like two waves crashing into each other, neither of them can tell where one of them ends and the other begins. What is happening between them is both thrilling and terrifying. They both pull away from the sheer magnitude of it.

Instantly, the doubt billows up in both of them from its wake. They shouldn't be feeling this good, not now.

"Carol, I-" he doesn't have the words to begin to explain what he is feeling. He doesn't have any experience with this sort of passionate thing that was flourishing so quickly between them. Daryl knows what sex is, he was no cowering virgin like Merle used to tease him, but he'd never felt anything like this type of intense yearning before.

But the timing of it seems off to both of them. This was a distraction, a welcomed one at that, but they also had a responsibility to Beth. They were so close to finding her now, they had to stay focused.

"We can't do this right now," she says understanding his hesitation. He's not sure why he even doubted her.

"It ain't 'cause I don't wanna," he adds because he still feels the need to explain, so there is absolute clarity between them.

She smiles at him while caressing his face. "There will be plenty of time later," she agrees.

She winks saucily at him and he feels both relieved and disappointed. Yet, he can't stop the worried thought that wiggles its way into his brain. Will there be?

He pushes the fear away as Carol settles against his shoulder once again. She lets the sound of his heart beating lull her to sleep. They stay entwined until the inhospitable dawn breaks them apart.


	3. Chapter 3

That bleak morning, a defensive distance falls back between them. It's necessary because they have work to do.

Daryl packs up their meager supplies while Carol finally sheds her dirty clothes and changes quickly. She is eager to rid herself of the layers of tarnish that coat her spirit and remind her of that ill-fated grove. She wants to forget, but she can't. It's a part of her now. Preparing herself for the tough tasks ahead, she armors herself in the color of mourning.

She wears her grief gracefully, he thinks. But he's heartsick from the veil of regret that obscures her pretty face. And there's no time to do anything about it. He understands that she's still working things out, that these things take time, but he wishes he could do more than just be there for her. It doesn't seem like quite enough.

But she surprises him, like she always does.

"Hey, got you a present," she smiles mischievously and tosses a black bundle at him.

He catches it against his chest with a bewildered expression. "What? Me?"

The cloth unravels as he inspects it. It's a fresh shirt with the sleeves cut off.

He looks back at her and she's dangling the shirt sleeves by her ears and making a silly face at him.

The unexpected sight of her teasing smile makes his heart grow lighter. He chuckles in amusement.

"You tryin' to tell me somethin'?" he raises his eyebrow in feigned offense.

She snickers and shakes her head at him before she turns back into the other room. His gaze lingers admiringly on her retreating form. Even though she's walking away, it seems like she's coming around. For the moment, he feels as if he has his best friend back. Hope spreads like a flame inside his chest and he smiles to himself as he changes into the shirt.

She reappears with her bag on her shoulders ready to go. Her face is all business again as they form a plan. Not knowing what obstacles lay between them and the hospital, they decide to exit through the building and scout for small tools, weapons, food, whatever they can easily carry that could be useful. There's a rhythm to their work. Slay, scavenge, move on. Slay, scavenge, move on. It's almost like a dance. Nimbly, they flow through the building in a zen-like state, so highly focused on these tasks that they are not prepared for the scene that assaults them when they enter the corner unit. Two young girls, flesh rotted to the bone, stagger aimlessly by the window. Abandoned by their parents, they'd been left alone to wander for eternity.

Initially, they both freeze and then falter from the impact of it. It hits a little too close for comfort. But their instincts kick in as the threat of their snarling teeth looms near. His kill is quick and resentful. But Carol still hesitates, moving unwillingly, hindered by the wretched scene from a few days ago that replays in her mind. She knows what she has to do, but as a mother, it goes against everything she feels in her body. Lamenting, she stabs the once child through the brain. Then, she lovingly lays the corpse down on the floor to rest beside her sister.

The sight of her kneeling beside the dead girls as she straightens their soiled clothing stabs Daryl between the ribs. He deflates as the hope leaks, painfully, from the wound. But he can't stop watching her dote on them. Like a sentinel, he remains steadfast despite his suffering. He knows she needs to do this so he doesn't try to stop her.

"We can't leave them here like this," she sobs. Her face is a wet wasteland when she looks up at him imploringly. "There are enough ghosts in this world."

The forlorn look in her eyes devastates him. He bites down hard on his lower lip to hold back his own grief which threatens to erupt from his chest. Unable to refuse her, he nods his head in loyal deference. He will fix this for her. He has to. Determined, he tears through the place until he finds a couple of sheets which he brings to her faithfully. Then, without any qualms, he helps her to gently place each body onto a sheet. They wrap them up with reverent precision. There is something in carrying out the ritual that begins to soothe her. And he is grateful for it.

With leaden feet, he carries out the first body into the building's tranquil courtyard and sets the sheet on fire. Pausing for a minute, he makes certain the flames catch and then, woefully, turns back inside for the other one.

After he places the second body on the pyre, she joins him. Her eyes are still red and puffy but the tears are gone. He shifts awkwardly on his feet wondering how much space to give her. His eyes float down to her empty hand. He wants to hold it but he doesn't. Patiently, he waits for her lead.

The time for grieving is nearly over. She can't dwell in the past or she will remain haunted by the ghosts of the people she's lost and the parts of herself lost along with them. Carol knows she must move on, and that Daryl is there to help her do just that. She takes a step closer to him, feeling a quiet strength emanating from him. _Dutiful Daryl_. Never wavering, he has been there for her through it all. Those angel wings on his vest truly suit him. He saved her from the farm. He saved her from the tombs. And now, he is there to save her from herself, from the darkness buried in her soul that threatens to consume her. He won't let her be. The love she feels for him, from him, fortifies the cracks in her resolve. She must let go to save herself. To start over. Gazing into the fire, Carol feels the hard remnants of her self-doubt burn away within her, seeking release. She lets the flames consume it all.

"Thank you," she says to him for everything he's done for her, for just being there. For reminding her that she will always be a mother. Fierce, protective, loving. Even when she'd lost herself, he still remembered and wouldn't let her forget.

He just nods back at her like it wasn't anything at all for him to stand by her side. Because it really isn't. He wants to be there. It's where he belongs.

They stand there for a while, watching the pyre burn. There is something wholly sacred about the act. The flames continue to lick and devour the emptiness left behind by those they've lost along the way. The loved ones who are free now. At peace. Maybe they've been watching over them, guiding them to each other. Maybe only together could they discover the deepest truth about themselves. They weren't lost at all. As the smoke rises, Daryl feels a burden lifting from his shoulders, from his heart. He looks at Carol hoping she does, too. The cloud of smoke continues to ascend towards the heavens, cleansing them of their pain, carrying it away. They aren't touching, but they both feel it. Two damaged people, fitting together, becoming unbroken. Looking up at the sky, he wipes away the tears of gratitude that fall from his eyes.

Purified, they withdraw from the fire, ready to return to the fray that awaits them.


	4. Chapter 4

Outside, their serenity is nearly shattered as they move into the dangerous heart of the city. The streets are like an obstacle course, littered with debris and clusters of the rotting dead who gather quickly like an angry mob with their thirst for fresh blood. It's impossible to travel in a straight line towards their destination. Swiftly, they stalk down the city streets like two panthers hunting their prey. Even on this overcast day, sweat coats them both making their skin shine from their efforts.

Like a true partnership, they take turns leading and backing each other up, using their non-verbal shorthand to communicate. Working in tandem, they press forward through the danger zones like an elite squadron, eliminating all threats until they make it to the hospital. The doors they reach first are chained tight, but they don't have a bolt cutter with them. As a result, they skirt the perimeter scouting for its vulnerabilities.

Closer to the lion's den, Daryl takes a protective lead, but he can't help but look back to make sure she's still following. They round the corner into the parking garage. Carol's struck by a sudden sinking sensation in her gut.

"I don't like this," she confesses and Daryl slows in reaction. "Maybe we should go back and get the others before we go in there with our guns blazing. We don't even know how many there are. We could be outnumbered."

He knows she has a valid point, but he wants to press in closer, to see what they're actually up against before he's willing to retreat. He continues to lead them up the garage ramp.

Out of the corner of his eye, he spots movement on the adjacent rooftop before he hears the shots ring out.

"Get down!" he warns her before abruptly wrapping his arms around her and pushing her to the ground, shielding her with his body.

Narrowly missing them, the bullets spray across the wall above them and chunks of concrete rain down upon them covering them with a layer of white dust and rubble.

"You alright? You okay?" he asks worriedly, quickly examining her for injuries.

"I'm fine. You?"

Satisfied with her answer, he scans their immediate surroundings for additional threats.

"Just peachy," he grumbles sarcastically.

About twenty yards away, he notices a cluster of cars that could provide more protection or possibly an escape. All he can think about is getting her to safety.

"C'mon! We gotta go," he says grabbing her hand. They both scramble to get up. "Stay low."

They crouch along the wall, until they are out of sight of the shooter. Heading up the ramp towards the vehicles, they wind through the thralls of walkers attracted by the sudden disturbance taking out the immediate threats. He heads towards the vehicles with Carol close behind him. He tries a couple of cars, but the doors are locked and he doesn't want to break the glass and attract any more attention to them. Finally, he pulls the handle of a battered white van and it opens.

"Here," he calls to her. "Get in!"

Carol moves quickly and clambers into the van and over into the passenger seat. Daryl climbs in after her and cracks the steering column to gain access to the wires. His hands move deftly to find the right wires to cross.

Daryl breathes out a sigh of relief as the van starts quickly. Cranking the wheel, he breaks the steering lock like a professional.

"Better buckle up," he warns her as he reaches for his own seatbelt. "This ain't gonna be no Sunday drive."

Satisfied by the sound of her seatbelt clicking into place, he nods at her and releases the parking break. With his foot to the floor on the gas pedal, he peels out of the parking spot, steering around the undead which stagger across their path like a minefield. They sail down the curving slope towards the exit.

"Stay down!" he yells at her in anticipation.

She follows his instructions just as a hail of bullets trails the course of the van. He's looking out the windshield up towards the rooftops trying to find the source, but he can't see anything too clearly at the speed they are travelling at.

When they are out of immediate danger, Carol sits up. After a while, she sees the flash in the side mirror.

"Shit. We've got company," she tells him as she looks behind them through the windows in the back of the van.

"Shit," he says, agreeing with her conclusion and wishing that he had listened to her and turned them around when she first expressed her doubts.

Gripping the steering wheel with white knuckles, he zigzags through the muddled city streets swerving around debris and random walkers shuffling mindlessly in the way. Sliding across a lake of crushed glass in the road, he suddenly loses control of the vehicle as the rear tire blows. He slams on the breaks, but it's too late, and the van hits the curb of the concrete island. The impact sends it airborne and hurling across the empty lanes towards the highway overpass. Luckily, the wheels catch on the guardrail and they aren't thrown below. But still, they come to a violent halt, saved only by their fastened seatbelts.

The engine sputters and dies. Teetering on the edge, they catch their breath. They look at one another, surprised to still be alive.

"You okay?" he asks when the shock fades.

"Never better," she jokes trying to rid him of that guilty expression he's wearing. Her ribs are bruised, but she's not going to tell him that. "How about you?"

"On top of the world," he retorts, taking in the view below.

The van sways slightly, then steadies. Simultaneously, they both release a breath, but are afraid to move too quickly, worried about throwing the balance off and tipping them forward. But they know they can't stay there, the sound of the crash is attracting walkers like fruit flies to sugar, and the car chasing them would catch up soon.

Very quickly, they both realize the only way out is through the back of the van. They look back and see the dead rapidly approaching them and then they look at each other.

"Whatever happens," he says looking in her fearful eyes.

"We're in this together," she replies grabbing his hand.

It's a vow that they both swear to. There is no time for heartfelt speeches now. He flashes her an apologetic smile hoping she understands that he's ruing the fact that he got them stuck in this jam. The only thing that prevents him from really laying into himself is that he's already told her how he feels. He's pleased with himself that he somehow finally found the balls to do it.

At least she knows.

Unbuckling his seatbelt, Daryl steps cautiously to the rear of the van to get a closer look. He opens the door and sees several nasty-looking walkers eagerly waiting for them to emerge. He pulls it closed while Carol unbuckles as well and moves into position beside him. She readies her AK-47.

"Ready?" he asks her.

She nods.

"On three then. One, two, three!"

At the same time, they kick open the back doors, knocking a few of the walkers to the ground. They shoot at anything that moves. Before long they've cleared the cluster of undead gathered there. But they have attracted every walker in the vicinity with the noise of the gunfire and they are heading towards them hungrily. They both hop down and sprint towards the nearest office building. They can hear the speeding car that was chasing them approaching the crash site, but they make it inside before it turns the corner. Without stopping, they make their way through the building lobby towards the rear entrance of the building.

"We should double back. Might throw them off. They'll think we've gone in the other direction," Carol suggests as they pause to catch their breath. He agrees and nods his approval. It sounded like a solid plan as any.

This time, he follows her lead as she creeps down the alley. Moving quietly, they stay close to the buildings.

"How many were there?" she inquires when they stop running long enough to catch their breath and hydrate themselves.

"Dunno," he says passing her the water bottle they've been sharing. "Hard to tell. Two, I think. And whoever's in the car."

"Could you see where they were shooting from?" She asks before taking a few sips and returning it to him.

He puts the cap on the bottle and stores it in his bag. "One by the garage looked like he was standin' over a fenced lot. They're guardin' it pretty heavily I'd say," he surmises, scratching at the scruff on his chin.

"But probably not the surrounding buildings?"

His brow arches in curiosity. "What are you suggestin'?" Daryl feels his stomach churn in anticipation.

"They're probably not expecting to be attacked from above."

He shakes his head and leans against the side of the building. "Might work for one, but without a silencer the others'll surely hear."

"Not if we split up. Sneak up on them."

It's not a valid option in his mind, and he quickly panics, pushing himself from the wall. The fear shoots from his stomach into his chest and out of his mouth before he has a chance to think about it. "We ain't splittin' up!" he barks, glaring at her angrily. "Together, remember?"

The sorry look on her face as she holds her hands up in surrender makes him regret the harshness of his tone immediately. "It's just a suggestion, Daryl." She reaches for his cheek, reassuringly. "We don't have to do that."

The feel of her gentle fingers caressing his rough skin begins to calm him. He closes his eyes for a moment and lets out a frustrated breath, willing his heart to slow its rapid pace. Opening them, he looks at her sheepishly. "M'sorry," he apologizes, leaning his forehead against hers. "Didn't mean to yell at you."

"I know. We'll figure out another way."

The fingers of his free hand find their way to the back of her head, weaving through her hair. He thinks about how he just got her back and how quickly consuming the fear of losing her again is. Sighing again, he's not ready to let go of her yet. Afraid she will pull away too soon, he holds her there while he inhales the earthy smell of her, hoping his fear will subside. It's new to him, this need to have her this physically close to him all the time. But the comfort of it brings him peace of mind because he knows she's safe. He used to think showing affection was a sign of weakness, but he's discovering it actually makes him feel stronger and rids him of his doubts. That he could lose her again is a thought he can't entertain. So he keeps breathing her in, letting the scent of her push away the worry, until all that's left is her.

He doesn't like himself when he loses his temper at her and makes a promise to himself to try harder not to do it again. As if sealing an oath, he presses his lips to her hairline before finally releasing her.

They can smell the herd of walkers before they even see it. Peeking around the corner of a high rise office building, they realize they'll have to go through the building to avoid it. Soon, they're running through an abandoned camp in a cluttered skyway. As they pass by empty tents and forgotten laundry hanging stiffly on a makeshift clothesline, they look out the row of windows and see the street below has become infested with walkers.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for your patience with me. This is the longest and final chapter of this story. Although I initially wrote this story after watching only the promos for the episode, when the show aired, I went back and reworked some canonical elements into the story that I thought really fit. Thanks everyone for your reviews, follows, and faves, but mostly for your encouragement. You guys are the best!-jb

They pause on the bridge as the river of decaying undead flows beneath them. The nauseating stench of them permeates through the tiny cracks around the windows while the sounds of their wretched moaning is muffled by the glass.

"Hell, if that ain't shit creek," he mutters as they take in the enormity of the herd.

"We can hide out for a while," Carol reasons, "but sooner or later we're gonna have to fight our way through."

He rankles at the notion of putting her in the midst of that danger below. Letting out a low growl, he wonders how long it will take the festering crowd to move on. She's right, he thinks. Maybe they could wait it out some, but they have never seen a crowd this size disperse on its own without interference. He peers at her from behind a sweat-drenched fringe of hair trying to recall when it was that she last ate something, knowing for certain that neither of them had eaten anything for breakfast that morning. They will need to fuel up if they plan to get very far.

"Guess it's break time then," he quips, handing her an energy bar he pulled from his bag. "Here, lunch is on me."

She accepts the bar with a coy smile. His playful side amuses her.

"C'mon," he tugs on her elbow as he walks away. If they were stuck there, he didn't want to have to keep looking at dead things. "The view ain't exactly appetizin'. Let's go find another spot."

Opening the packages with their teeth as they roam through the abandoned office building, Carol follows Daryl as he navigates them through the twists and turns in the hallway searching for a stairwell. They find it tucked in the back corner. Both bars are devoured by the time they climb up a few flights. Finding an open office, they enter it to take a peek at the street below to see if it's clear on this side of the building. Stopping in front of its large window, they are both stupefied by the view of the stark urban landscape. Downtown Atlanta, once a thriving hub, now lay crumbled in desolate ruins.

Even through the low hanging clouds, they note how the remains of blown out office buildings lean precariously in their devastation. How these tumbling pillars of civilization sit idly in the skyline as bleak beacons of a lost hope for a forgotten world.

"I remember the night they bombed the city," she says nostalgically when she can finally speak. "We were stuck on the highway and heard the helicopters flying overhead. That was the night we met Lori and Shane. Carl played checkers with Sophia to pass the time." She smiles bittersweetly as she remembers their lost innocence. "God, it seems like ages ago."

Watching her carefully, Daryl grunts his agreement. An uneasiness percolates in his gut as he listens to her. The sadness in her voice haunts him, compelling him to wrestle with his own feelings of powerlessness. There are too many ghosts, he thinks to himself.

"I was so different then," she reflects with a darkness in her eyes. It is hard to imagine her former self without a tinge of disgust for her passivity. But it's someone else's slide show now. Another life.

"Hey, we all were," he reminds her. His eyes narrow as he studies her face. He worries about the gloom creeping back into her features.

She meets the simple truth in his eyes with a poignant smile. Daryl is right, she isn't alone. For better or worse, this new world has changed them all. Trying to unburden herself, she slips the backpack and gun from her shoulders and sets them on the desk beside them. She shrugs her shoulders trying to let the memories roll off her back.

"Fuck the way it was," he tells her remembering his own miserable existence. It wasn't all butterflies and rainbows before the Turn. He didn't want to go back to the way he was before life as they knew it had ceased to be. Some things were better now.

"Yeah," she agrees trying to convince herself. She's not sure she wouldn't trade in every ounce of strength she's uncovered in this new life to have Sophia alive and in her arms again. But she can't go back. She only knows she will do whatever it takes to keep the people she loves alive for however long she can. It's all she can do.

He's staring at her intently with those perceptive blue eyes of his. The ones that, despite being nearly hidden by the shaggy hair falling across them, notice everything. It makes her feel like he sees all her ugly flaws and still accepts her. The crease forming between his brow tells her he's concerned about her. Her heart swells with love for this caring man who reminds her that even though she's had to harden herself like a warrior, at the core she is still just a woman, and she has just as much value. She feels the love rising into her eyes where fresh tears begin to burn off the shadowy despair that seems to frequently envelop her these days like a thick mist.

"Some of us changed for the better," she says fondly to him wondering where she'd be without him. "You were like a kid when I first met you. And now look at you." She brushes away the straggle of hair covering his eyes. "You're a man. A good one. And I'm so proud of you." She lifts up on her toes to reward him with a tender kiss on the lips. Pulling back, her watery eyes look upon him with complete admiration.

Daryl feels the warmth on his cheeks as she compliments him. Embarrassed, he wants to avoid her eyes, but the way she regards him fills him up with a pleasant buzzing energy that keeps him transfixed. He has not really known much of happiness, but he realizes now, standing in front of her, that what little he has found rests somewhere there in her eyes.

Carol smiles at him again and he notices that some light has returned to her eyes making them sparkle like two brilliant crystals. A fluttering in his chest causes him to be suddenly breathless. His gaze wanders to her upturned lips as he recalls how soft and warm they felt pressing against him. The desire to unite them again grows increasingly unbearable. Like a swift current, the warmth from his cheeks rushes down his neck and into his core igniting the smoldering embers of last night's fiery embrace.

Drawn to her by a force greater than himself, he compresses the lingering space between them, and with great care, takes hold of her face with both hands. His thumbs caress the delicate skin of her cheeks as his fingers sweep across her temple and ears and then glide down along the sides of her willowy neck. Leaning in, he catches her soft lips with his own, lightly tugging her in towards him. Kissing her slowly, his steady lips trickle over hers like a light spring rain. A warm energy begins to tingle on their skin and pool between them.

As the kiss builds, it sends an electric pulse down to her knees, making them tremble. Sensing this, he slides his tentative hands down her shoulders and along the slender edges of her body until they find a more certain grip on her hips. His fingers root into her flesh to ground her as his lips engulf hers. Even as he holds her more firmly in place, her limbs continue to quiver beneath his increasingly confident touch. He feels the way her body stirs in response to his kiss. It incites him and makes him feel stronger. Winding his arms around her waist, he pulls her more securely against him.

With the heat of her against him, his heart picks up to a rapid thumping. The blood is sizzling in his veins as he deepens the kiss. She latches her hands around his neck and soon her fingers are tangled in his shaggy hair as she tows him ardently towards her. He groans at the zinging sensations emitted by the gentle grazing of her fingernails against his scalp. The sound of it pushes her up into him, towards the source. She nips at his mouth. As she returns his sultry kiss, his head begins to swirl from the swarm of heated pleasure building inside him. Buckling at the knees, he sways underneath the sweltering intensity of his feelings, and they stumble together against the window. Pinning her there for support, he sinks further into her luscious lips, delving his tongue into her mouth like an intrepid explorer. With every burrowing kiss, he seeks to discover more of her.

They lose themselves in the taste of each other, feeding the rampant hunger arising from their cores. The two of them are so rapt in their consumption of each other that they almost don't hear the faint noise that alerts them to the fact that they are not alone. Recoiling from each other in heavy-lidded alarm, they strain to hear over their heavy breathing. Coming from down the hall is the sound of someone whimpering.

Grabbing her gun and backpack, Carol takes off running down the hall. Daryl quickly follows behind readying his crossbow. Hunting for the source, they maneuver through a cubicle farm with rows of desks holding darkened computer screens. On a chair in one of the cubicles, they find a fresh-faced teen sitting alone, crying. He's dressed in blue hospital scrubs. Except for the bruise on his left eye, he looks well taken care of. His hair is neatly trimmed and he looks clean for the most part, except for some scarlet blood stains drying on his pants. They sense he probably hasn't been there long.

"Please, don't shoot me," he says putting his empty hands up. Wet trails glisten on the dark skin of his cheeks.

"You alone, kid?" Daryl asks lowering his crossbow, not sensing any threat.

"I am now. And I don't know if I can do what I have to." He buries his face in his hands embarrassed by his breakdown. He thought the building was empty. "Maybe they were right. Maybe I am weak."

Daryl and Carol looked inquisitively at each other.

"Hey, you ain't alone no more. You got a name?"

"Noah," he says lifting his head up. He quickly wipes his face with the back of his hand trying to compose himself. He couldn't let the fear get the best of him.

"Hi, Noah. I'm Carol. This is Daryl."

Distracting them from his tears, Noah grins. "Your names rhyme."

"Uh, yeah. I guess they do." Carol smiles sweetly in return.

His tears clearing, he examines them, taking in their arsenal of weapons. "What are you some kind of dynamic duo?"

Carol stifles a laugh as she winks at Daryl. "Um, yeah. Something like that."

He tries hard not to smile at the way she purses her lips. Hiding his amusement, he turns his attention to the kid. "Noah, you got any weapons on you?"

"Just this," he holds out the butter knife he stole from the kitchen. "It's pretty useless."

"That's it?"

"It's lame, I know. But it was all I could take without them noticing," he explains. "My friend had a gun. She used it to save me. But she didn't make it out. She saved my life! How exactly am I suppose to help her with this stupid thing?" Upset again, he throws the knife to the ground where it bounces underneath the desk. The kid's face was full of remorse.

"Where's your friend?"

"She's still there. They grabbed her before she could escape. In the hospital. Her name's Beth."

Daryl and Carol stand up more attentively.

"Wait, she a blond girl?" Daryl asks.

Startled by his realization, Noah stands up. "You know her?"

"She's with us," Carol confirmed.

"I know where she is! Can you help me?"

Daryl and Carol share a look of unexpected fortune.

"Here," Carol said handing him a looted machete from her backpack. "Take this. You know how to kill these things?"

"It's been a while, but I remember. Kind of hard to forget."

"Good. Any chance you know a way around that herd of walkers downstairs?"

Noah guides them through the building's back corridors as he tells them about the group at the hospital.

"I was with my dad when they took me. They only take one. Less of a threat that way. They do help, I guess. Save lives and that shit, but then you owe them for everything you take and they make you work it off. Thing is, no one ever has. They put you down to keep you in line. Won't let anyone leave willingly."

Reaching the stairwell, he leads them to the ground floor. Opening the door, he peers around it to see if the street is clear. When he sees that it is, he waves for them to follow as he heads out the door.

They run down the street following the kid who seems to know exactly where to go. But when they turn around the corner, they see the route is cut off by the walkers at the end of the block.

"Gonna have to take a detour," Noah says breathlessly as he changes directions.

It happens a few more times before Daryl starts to get an eerie prickle in his stomach. It seems like they are being corralled. The memory of the trap set for them at Terminus suddenly flashes in his mind.

"Hold up," he calls out as Carol and Noah stop.

The three of them pant heavily, resting their hands on their knees. Looking up about to continue, he sees a man in uniform with a gun, patrolling the street. He doesn't see them. Daryl figures there are more where he came from. Quickly, he ushers them both into the lobby of an office building. They hide behind a row of elevators.

"S'a damn trap," he bleats. "Saw one of 'em out there lookin' around."

"They're well organized," Noah informs them. "They have guns. Vehicles. They communicate by radio."

Searching the lobby, they realize there is no exit but the way they came in. They are surrounded with no other way to escape but the way they came in. It doesn't bode well for their plans.

"Hell of a day for a standoff," Daryl gripes.

As always, Daryl stubbornly refuses to give up. But Carol knows the gruesome reality. They don't have enough ammo left to fight through the army of walkers and the malevolent others chasing them. More than anything, she doesn't want Daryl to die. She knows she has to say something. She has to reason with him. It isn't going to be easy to tell him what she must do because she knows it will hurt him.

"You have to go," she says to him. "Take Noah with you. Bring the others back here. I'll lead them away."

"What? No!" The refusal comes out as a desperate whimper as his voice cracks. "I ain't leavin' you!"

"You know I have to do this, Daryl. You know! It's has to be me. You heard what he said. They look for the weak ones."

"But you ain't weak."

She shakes her head. "People underestimate me. They will, too." Her eyes plead with him. "It's the only way."

"It ain't!" He begins pacing frantically. "There's gotta be another way!"

Underneath the anger, she hears the desperation in his voice. He is unwilling to admit defeat. It is one of the reasons she loves him. So she lets him think about it, to give him time to accept it. But after a while, she sees his pacing is only making it worse. Increasingly realizing the hopeless lack of another solution, he spirals out of control, like a raging cyclone. Not fearing the rage is directed at her, she steps calmly in front of him. He ceases his reeling abruptly, but his eyes continue to storm as they bore into her.

"I'm sorry," she says, placing a hand on his chest over his heart where she knows he is hurting most, "but there isn't. Please, I need to do this." She reaches up to caress his cheek to soften the anger she sees there. The tears form in her eyes, because she knows how much this hurts him. "I know you'll come back for me. Whatever happens...You'll find me! You always do."

He knows her mind is made up and he can't stop her. And he knows she's giving him the best shot they have. He doesn't like it, but he can see this is painful for her, too. And he can't fix it for her this time. They are out of options. She believes in him, and he needs to show the same faith in her. Yielding, he looks into her bold blue eyes, his heart convulsing with pride and fear all at once. Without caring that the kid is watching, he seizes her face and pulls her to him. "No matter how long it takes, I _will_ find you," he promises before kissing her angrily.

"In the meantime, you stay safe," he tells her sadly after he pulls away. His eyes are damp, but full of appreciation for her bravery, knowing she will do whatever it takes to survive.

"Nine lives, remember?"

She kisses him again to comfort them both for what she's about to do. And then like a dream, she slips from his grasp and hurries away. He continues to be gripped with that strange mixture of adoration and terror as he watches her depart. Like a lioness, she exits swiftly out the glass doors and into the fog to sacrifice herself in order to save them. To save Beth. Even in his agony, Daryl knows that he has never loved her more.

And then it gets worse.

The car comes out of nowhere. Before he has a chance to blink, he sees her crumpled body flying up onto the hood, her head smashing into the windshield, and then roll to stillness in front of the car.

"No!" he screams as his heart is violently torn from his chest.

Noah holds him back as he lunges forward towards the door. Daryl struggles trying to break free, but the pain from what he just witnessed is crippling and makes him too weak.

"Lemme go!" Daryl roars as he flails about like a caged animal watching helplessly as the uniformed men load Carol onto a stretcher. "I gotta-"

"Wait!" the kid interrupts as he grapples with him, pulling him behind the cover of a large fake tree. "Think about it! Think about it! They can help her. They'll take her there. It's a hospital! They have a doctor. And Beth is still there. It's her best chance to survive! You want her to have that, right?"

Noah's solid logic starts to sink in as the panicked throbbing in his veins begins to slow. Reluctantly, Daryl ceases his resistance, but the fear still twitches his body as he struggles for control, his breath coming out in short, ragged gasps.

From their hiding spot, Daryl sees them load Carol into the back of the vehicle. He watches until she is out of his sight and the car pulls away.

"How many of these assholes are there?" he finally grunts.

"A lot. We're gonna need more weapons."

Narrowing his eyes in determination, he knows what he needs to do.

"Whatever it takes. I got a promise to keep."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I channeled a little bit of Hawkeye from The Last of the Mohicans there, but I couldn't help myself. Here we are at the end. Or maybe it's a beginning? Thanks, everyone for your support.


End file.
